


Tulips

by missmichellebelle



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-10 21:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Lea and Cory? Are you looking at them?”</p><p>“No,” Chris blurts out too quickly.</p><p>“…are they celebrating another anniversary? That’s, like, the fourth bouquet thismonth. What is it this time? The first time he asked her for gum?”</p><p>Chris doesn’t actually know, only that Cory had shown up on set with a bouquet of flowers, and Lea had shrieked and jumped at him. And, yeah, okay, they do it like allthe time, but Chris can’t but find it a little sweet (as much as he also finds it revolting). It’s just… He looks at Darren, and swallows the twang of disappointment and jealousy he feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tulips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fullofbloodandhoney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullofbloodandhoney/gifts).



> A birthday gift for the one and only Terry. <3

“What are you staring at?”

Chris jolts in his chair, snapping his head to stare down at his phone in his lap as quickly as possible.

“Nothing,” he says, as convincingly as he can. “Just staring into space, I guess.” He looks up at Darren, and forces a smile. Darren looks at him unsurely.

“Thinking?” Darren taps the toe of his shoe against Chris’s calf.

“Always.” This time, Chris’s smile comes easier.

“About?”

Chris lets out an exasperated sound, because Darren is  _so_ nosey, all the time.

“What else? Writing, mostly.  _Lunch_. Whether or not I fed Brian this morning—” Chris’s face goes blank.  _Did_  he feed Brian this morning?

“You fed Brian this morning,” Darren states, and it’s always creepy when he seems to be reading Chris’s mind.

“You don’t know that.”

“You have the same exact routine every morning. So you fed him. But you’ll still feed him when you get home, which is why your cat is obese, Colfer.” Darren grins at him, nudges his calf again, and this time Chris nudges back.

“He’s not obese, okay, he’s just…” Chris crosses his arms, looks away, and his eyes immediately fall on what he’d been staring at before.

“He’s just…? Chris?”

“What?”

“Seriously, what are you looking at?”

Chris looks away again, feeling sheepish.

“ _Nothing_.”

“You are a filthy, filthy liar.” Darren’s grin is cheeky and playful, and then he’s leaning past Chris, his eyebrows furrowing. “Lea and Cory? Are you looking at them?”

“No,” Chris blurts out too quickly.

“…are they celebrating  _another_  anniversary? That’s, like, the fourth bouquet this _month_. What is it this time? The first time he asked her for gum?”

Chris doesn’t actually know, only that Cory had shown up on set with a bouquet of flowers, and Lea had shrieked and jumped at him. And, yeah, okay, they do it like  _all_ the time, but Chris can’t but find it a little sweet (as much as he also finds it revolting). It’s just… He looks at Darren, and swallows the twang of disappointment and jealousy he feels.

Because it’s stupid. It’s really, really stupid. So what if Darren never gets him flowers? It’s not like it means anything. Darren gives him so much else, is the  _sweetest_  person in the whole world, Chris is  _lucky_  to have Darren.

Chris doesn’t  _need_  flowers.

He just… Sort of wants them, sometimes.

Maybe if he starts just giving Darren flowers, he’ll get it—but the fact that he’s making fun of Lea and Cory isn’t exactly encouraging.

“…Chris?” Darren’s voice comes softer, like he just realized that Chris isn’t laughing with him like usual. Like maybe something is actually wrong. But Chris doesn’t want Darren to coax it out of him, like he always manages to. Because this isn’t an issue. Maybe it is right now, but Chris will get over it.

“I, um.” Chris blinks rapidly, clearing his head. “I need to head to make-up for some touch ups. I’ll see you later?” He glances around, and then kisses Darren on the cheek, before bouncing away. His guts still feel heavy, and he’s not  _mad_  at Darren, or upset with him, he’s just… Upset in general. But it will pass.

It’s stupid, and it will pass.

When he glances back, he sees Darren watching him go.

*

He’s eating nachos on his couch, and Brian keeps trying to sneak them from him. Darren’s right, his cat has a complete and total addiction to human food. That Chris is probably enabling.

“No,” he says, as Brian sits on the floor, tail flicking, staring at the nachos as if they’re prey. “Nachos are not for cats, Brian, they’re for daddy.”

One day, Chris will actually remember that Brian can’t understand him.

There’s a knock at the door, and Chris frowns at his TV for a moment. He sighs, sitting up, and looking at his cat and then his nachos.

“I’m going to be right back,” he says sternly. “Do  _not_  eat the nachos.”

Brian just watches him, tail still swishing like it does when he’s up to something, but Chris just sighs and drags himself to the door.

“ _Chris_ ,” a voice calls through the door before he reaches it, and Chris immediately recognizes it as Darren’s. Which, while not exactly weird, is a little unusual. They didn’t have plans tonight, or maybe Chris would be dressed for company.

Then again, he hasn’t dressed up for Darren in awhile.

“You’re pulling me away from nachos and Friends reruns,” Chris tells him, as he unlocks and opens the doors. And there’s Darren, standing there on his sad excuse for a porch, eyes wide and nervous, arms full of tulips. Chris’s mouth parts in shock, and he stares at the bundle of colored blossoms, and then at Darren, and then at the flowers again.

“Sorry. If I’d known you were busy, I would have waited,” Darren says lightly, and Chris just continues to stare at the flowers.

“Those… Are those…”

“Tulips, yeah.” Darren shifts them in his arms. “Do you… Not like tulips? Fuck, I should know this shit.” Darren suddenly sounds frustrated, and Chris reaches out to touch his arm. He glances around, as if remembering where they are, and tugs Darren inside quickly, shutting the door behind him.

“I like tulips,” Chris assures him. He has nothing against them. They aren’t his favorite flower, but they’re pretty—bright and happy. And they’re  _flowers_. Darren brought him _flowers_. “Tulips are… Tulips are great.”

“Good, because… They’re for you.” It feels so awkward, and maybe this is why they don’t do the flower thing, but Chris’s heart still feels full. He wants to ask how Darren knew, because Chris hadn’t said a word to anyone. He’d shoved it down so, so far that it was hardly a blip on his radar anymore, that it wasn’t even a niggling thought. But here Darren is, with flowers, like he really  _can_  read Chris’s mind.

Darren is holding them out, so Chris takes them, cradling them in his arms like they’re something precious.

“What are these for?” Chris asks, shyly, glancing up from them to Darren, who is finally smiling warmly at him—like seeing Chris with those flowers is worth whatever he went through to get them.

“Well…” Darren steps closer, and Chris feels the familiar press of Darren’s palm on his waist, warm through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. “Today is the first day that—Brian is eating your nachos.”

Chris snorts out a laugh.

“ _What?_ ”

Darren’s face lights with amusement, and he gestures with a jerk of his chin over Chris’s shoulder. Chris looks confused for a moment, but, when he turns, sure enough, Brian is going at the nachos Chris left behind.  _Typical_.

“Actually not the first time,” Chris comments dryly, and looks back at Darren. He steps closer.

“Then… Today is the first day that your idiot of a boyfriend bought you tulips.”

Chris wishes said tulips weren’t being crushed between their bodies right now, but—it’s the thought that counts. And he’s going to put them in a vase, even if they’re crushed and broken.

“He’s not an idiot all the time,” Chris responds, softly, the fingers of his free hand coming up to play with Darren’s curls. “Just  _most_  of the time.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Darren laughs, throaty, warm, and low, and Chris nuzzles their noses together at the sound. “How about we put your two-lips and my two-lips together?”

“Oh my  _god_ ,” Chris groans, and lets his forehead drop against Darren’s shaking shoulder.

“Would you believe me if I told you I bought them for the colors and not for the chance to use that pick-up line?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“…want to kiss me anyway?”

“Kind of, yeah.”

“Awesome.”


End file.
